


The Photograph

by SpuffyCarrie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Complete, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Light Angst, Minor Hermione Granger/Viktor Krum, Non-Canon Relationship, One Shot, Possibly Unrequited Love, Redeemed Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21577759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpuffyCarrie/pseuds/SpuffyCarrie
Summary: Hermione has a little something for owl post hidden in her bag in an unmarked envelope. What would happen if she lost it and an inquisitive blonde Slytherin found it on the floor? A year 8 one shot.Unbetaed, so please be kind <3
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 103





	The Photograph

Hermione rushed to Potions, her bag so heavy it fell from her shoulder, clattering to the ground in the silence of the corridor. In her haste to gather her fallen books she didn't notice an envelope fall from her bag and slide across the flagstones. Year eight was turning out to be far worse than she imagined. There was a rush to catch up on the lost year’s work, all returning year eights were housed in their own individual rooms near Gryffindor tower and it was the source of great contention, least of all because they all shared one pitifully small common room with barely any room to socialise. McGonagall had drummed it into them all from the first day that they were there to work this year and not fraternise, they would be sitting their N.E.W.T’s in February, so it was a very short year for them with lots of cramming and revision. It meant mainly studying in their own lonely room in a newly rebuilt part of the castle, sparsely furnished with a bed, a desk and a small en-suite bathroom, or focussed time during the day in the library when the other students were in their own lessons. They even ate in their rooms. The Headmistress didn’t want any disruption to those who’d been encouraged to allow their children to return to a place which had been deemed unsafe for children after the loss of so many students during the war. Hermione understood, but she missed the friendly intercourse of studying and eating with her classmates and rather felt like a dirty secret hidden in the castle. The only saving grace, or so Hermione thought, was they had no need to wear uniform robes as, since they wouldn’t be fraternising with the other students it was felt unnecessary. 

She begged profusely and for a while Harry and Ron considered returning with her, but with respective Quidditch trials and offers from the Auror department they decided the big wide wizarding world was ready for them. Try as she might to convince them to gain their qualifications, they were adamant they weren't returning to Hogwarts. So, that left eleven from their year who returned. Three Gryffindors, Hermione, Neville and Parvati, Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones from Hufflepuff, Padma Patil, Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot from Ravenclaw. This left three Slytherin snakes who were under Ministry probation because of either their own or their families involvement in the war; a stipulation of which was finishing their final year of education; Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini and a wizard Hermione had hoped to never lay eyes on again during in her lifetime, Draco Malfoy.

In the spirit of house unity, all houses had been banished in all school years and as soon as they were informed of this the first day, she saw Draco's face fall. She'd expected to see him sneer in his trademark manner, but true sadness cast a shadow over his previously stoic features, although he manfully forced his chin high in an attempt to look like he didn’t care. Still, his change in demeanour by no means meant he was remorseful or even apologetic for his previous actions, but she noted that he looked tired, the sort of dog tired when you'd had enough of life and she couldn't help but feel a tiny bit sorry for him as she’d felt that way herself on many occasions even before the war began. It was hard having the world on your shoulders at such a young age and she doubted Malfoy had felt any different. She quickly looked away as he glanced up at her, feeling a shiver race up her spine with his eyes on her, she'd been caught staring at Malfoy of all people and she wasn’t sure she was sorry for staring. He’d grown back into his skin and filled out since she last saw him, when he’d looked like a bag of bones, doubtless because of Voldemort killing muggles over his dinner table at the manor, or so she heard, one couldn’t always be sure nowadays with so many rumours about the Malfoy’s circulating. He was larger, broader and she was sure he was taller and had become more statuesque like his father. Her heart raced because the worst thing that could happen this year was for him to begin his previous bullying and caustic comments to entertain himself now the other members of the golden trio weren’t around to back her up. She needed focus to get through her exams as she struggled with flashbacks and bad dreams at night, leaving her in a constant state of exhaustion, she found herself flagging most evenings as she ploughed through her workload. Just because they were a little older and had survived a war, didn't mean Malfoy had changed in the slightest. She knew she needed to keep on her toes and that meant not letting her guard down around the small contingent of Slytherins. But, even a few weeks later, she knew was Malfoy wasn’t studying, he was just turning up at class and staring into space and that was such a waste of a brain much like her own. She remembered all those times she barely pipped him to the post in tests and exams, he was just as intelligent as she, he just needed to apply himself more. 

Hurrying along the corridor she finally made her way to her lesson, unaware that someone stepped out of the shadows to retrieve the envelope she’d accidentally discarded.

..........

Draco sauntered into Potions just behind Hermione, sitting with a huff of boredom at an empty desk at the back of the class. Being at Hogwarts was a form of torture in itself and double the study meant less time to worry about his future, which in his mind had gone to hell in a handbasket. His father was in Azkaban for life, barely escaping the kiss due to a new Ministry decree, and his mother remained at home, cleared by Saint Potter of any wrongdoing but now left alone since his return to school. It was either twelve months under house arrest or finish school and it wasn't a difficult choice, he didn't think he could stand being locked up in the manor for that long with nothing to do and with Aurors peering at him from every corner as he went about his daily business. Potter spoke for him at his trial but in the end he was still put on probation, the Ministry had to show they were keeping an eye on him and he wasn't sure he could blame them, he was lucky he hadn't accompanied his father to Azkaban for the part he played in letting Death Eaters into the school and he knew it.

He cricked his neck and vaguely listened to the professor. The envelope he'd picked up burned a hole in his pocket. He'd meant to catch up with Granger and give it back, but she was too quick, ever desperate to get to class. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t ready to face her, to try to make reparations and apologies for her treatment in his home that fateful day. He wanted to tell her that he tried to help her, that he was stopped by his parents and if he were being honest there was no way to help her, only to suffer her screams in agony while he watched her tortured on the parquet floor. 

A question was asked by professor, oh, what the hell was his name again? He was no Snape, that's all he knew, just a small rat faced little man who wore pince nez and squeaked at the class in the most irritating way, it was like being taught by Peter Pettigrew. Rat face said something, and Hermione’s hand shot up, it was a wonder the girl didn't dislocate her arm, the speed she launched her arm into the air. When he’d been able to look at her properly, he’d noted she looked tired but somehow was still precocious and eloquent as ever in her bid to outdo everyone in their small year group. He wondered how she did it, how she fought and was tortured in a war and got right back up again and began fighting her way through life again. 

He closed his eyes as she spoke, her voice so very soothing as she repeated the ingredients for a spell, he hadn't slept since the beginning of term and sat up with a start as his head nodded in the warm room. Most nights he sat at his desk in the room across the corridor from hers, his door wide open as he stared her closed one. He imagined he heard her inside, scribbling furiously as she studied and read, working her way through the heavy course load. He longed to knock and make a heartfelt apology for the last time they'd seen each other, the day she lay on the floor of his childhood home suffering the agonies his vile aunt inflicted on her but instead he wrote a few lines and tried to make out the blurred lines in his book, swinging back on the chair occasionally to see if she had left. He often heard cries in the night along their corridor as he sat in his bed, his blanket wrapped around him, but nobody ever went to the one dreaming and he thought perhaps the others who slept and were blissfully unaware. He didn’t sleep himself because he was afraid he might be another to scream while dreaming and wake the whole bloody school.

On the first day they all arrived back at Hogwarts via floo to McGonagall’s office to avoid disruption to the other students, he found her staring at him. He knew she hadn't meant for him to see, but the problem was she'd filled his dreams since the fateful day when she, Potter and Weasley had turned up at the manor, and for far longer if he were truly honest with himself. At some point, the bookwormish know it all Gryffindor princess had turned from a buck toothed, bushy haired ugly duckling into a beautiful swan with honey and cinnamon coloured eyes, sleek curls and a body to die for. She had more than just looks though, she had inner beauty and unparalleled strength and he had somehow always known it. She had become his polar opposite. His soul was dark and tarnished, his arm covered with a filthy mark which would never wash away, no matter how hard he scrubbed, he had been weak where she was filled with strength and she never let her peers down, however hard it was for her. The same dark circles he’d had under his eyes in sixth year had never really left. He came and went from his room and there was nobody who really loved or cared for him, apart from his mother. If he lost her then he'd have nobody, he’d be truly alone in this world. These past few years had proved to him how important friends were. Nott and Zabini were barely on speaking terms with him now, the friendship they once had was strained and he knew he'd have to work hard for them to trust him again. The two seemed to get on well together but rarely sought him out and that hurt because they seemed to be able to move on and he couldn’t. It was lonely being Draco Malfoy, but then he also thought it was lonely being Hermione Granger too, especially this year without her sidekicks. He longed to take the seat beside her when he walked into the potion’s classroom, but he didn’t have the guts to do it, even if it meant leaving her seated alone at the front of the class. He noticed Longbottom and Patil had become rather close and were oblivious to anyone else around them. He wondered if she spoke with them, if they retained the Gryffindor camaraderie they’d always had, or if they too felt their friendships had been lost to the tide of war.

He shifted when the class ended, and realised he hadn't listened to a word, the parchment in his bag remained there along with his quill. The others had already left, and he decided he'd head back to his room and try to sleep for an hour before the next lesson.

............

Heading back to her room to retrieve a forgotten book, Hermione noticed Malfoy enter his room just ahead of her. She wondered what he was doing down here when they needed to spend every spare minute studying in the library to get through their exams. She sidled into her room and found her book, rooting through her bag looking for the letter she’d written to Viktor, thinking she'd make a quick stop at the owlery to send it to Bulgaria on her way to the library. She'd had a hot and heavy summer romance with the Bulgarian Seeker and even though they were lovers in the sexual sense, she wasn't  _ in _ love with him. She cared for him, but the guy still couldn't even get her name right and she had to admit it was rather irritating. Regardless, he had a smoking hot body and knew all the right ways to make love to a woman. The fling ended the day she returned home, a few days before the beginning of the new term. When the war ended, she and Ron decided almost instantly that they were never meant to be more than friends and relationships forged in the heat of battle were never really supposed to last. She wrote to Viktor and her summer holiday was spent between Viktor’s family home in the city of Sophia and his beach house on the Black Sea coast. It was just what she needed to recover and grieve, post war, and to escape the media furore that ensued around the Golden trio for their part in ending it.

Where was it? She was sure it was there earlier, she'd slipped it in between her Potions book and her spare parchment. 

"Shit, shit, shit!" 

Hermione emptied the contents of her bag onto the desk and there was no sign of it. Heart racing, she let out a loud groan, sweet Circe she'd lost it, lost the letter and the Polaroid she'd taken to enclose within it. The Polaroid that was of her—Merlin, she was going to vomit at the thought of it falling into the hands of the faculty, or worse, someone who might sell it to the Prophet! Skeeter would have a field day and her reputation would be in ruins. She and Viktor had already run the gauntlet of the European press that summer and now she was terrified it had all been for nothing. 

.....

Laying on his bed propped up on his pillows, Draco turned the letter over and over in his hands while trying to decide whether to open it. It wasn't addressed, so either Granger had forgotten to address it, or she hadn't planned to send it. He wondered if it could be some kind of cathartic expulsion of her feelings in writing with the intension to burn it afterwards, he’d heard of witches and wizards doing that when they were overwhelmed by their feelings and had considered doing it himself on several occasions. A few years ago, he would've just opened it without a second thought but now he considered whether he should just hand it back to her.

Drumming his free hand on the coverlet his curiosity got the better of him.  "Oh, sod it!" He muttered and using his wand to slice along the edge of the envelope and pull out the contents.

A black and white photograph fluttered to his lap and he realised it was Hermione Granger, on her knees buck naked. The monochrome shadow of the tastefully captured picture barely covered the curls at the apex of her thighs. His eyes were drawn to her full breasts and the arms held behind her back almost like she was being restrained by someone behind her in the most delightful way. Her dark curls cascaded down her back and she bit her lip in a most sultry way as she looked away from the camera. He found himself fascinated by her eyelashes and the way they fanned over the tips of her cheekbones and the barest hint of a dip between her brows, like she was nervous. The picture didn’t move at all and he assumed it was a muggle photograph. He’d seen them once or twice, he wasn’t completely uncultured in muggle ways, however much his father would like him to be. A man who read as much as he did was always certain to crave something new and he enjoyed muggle Science Fiction greatly, along with classic books written by long dead authors. Draco always knew his fathers and the Dark Lord’s ideologies were a cauldron of shit but followed along regardless like some idiotic clod. It was expected of a Malfoy, or so he had been told, to rise above the lesser wizarding world, the squibs, elves and muggleborns and that had been drummed into him since he was a mere babe. Time had made him realise all blood was the same, in fact war and exsanguination had proved it to him and he wanted to vomit at the memory.

His eyes travelled over the sleek skin of her tits in a way that made him desperate to suckle her taut nipples into his mouth. He imagined himself sinking down between her legs and feasting on her lips, spreading her legs and tonguing her pussy, but mostly he was stock still in shock that Granger would photograph herself and send it in a letter at all. His cock jumped to attention, straining against his trousers in a way he hadn't felt in a long time, in fact there was a point when he wondered if he'd ever be able to get hard again, the fear he'd felt and the things he'd seen had driven any thoughts of girls from his head, until now that was. His breath was coming rapidly, and he wanted her. Barely able to tear his eyes away, inquisitiveness got the better of him and he glanced at the note attached.

_ "My dear Viktor, just a little something to remember me by. I'm sorry things had to end, but it was for the best, Hermione." _

Fucking Krum! How had he managed to get into this goddesses’ knickers, to the point she was sending him nudes via owl post. He was jealous, he wanted her to do that for him, hell, even a smouldering kiss would be better than nothing. He knew what was right though, he should give it back, he wasn't a stupid and selfish kid anymore, he was trying to change and angering Granger to the point she would probably hex off his bollocks wasn't great for the new inter house relations they were supposed to be building. Wistfully he took another look and memorised her image for posterity, sealing it back in the envelope. "Papyrus reparo." He mumbled and watched the sear of golden magic travel the length of the envelope. Satisfied it looked as it once did, he opened the door to his room and walked over to the room opposite, pushing it carefully under the door.

.....

Hermione was almost in tears and she sat at her desk, her head in her hands as she tried to think of what to do. Why had she been so stupid as to allow a photo of herself in flagrante delicto to fall into the wrong hands? It was a moment of madness that had backfired on her spectacularly. She heard a rustle of paper and looked down to see her envelope being pushed under the door, she'd recognise her own stationary anywhere.

Jumping up, she flung open the door to find Draco Malfoy on the other side. Something was off about him, his face looked strained and his eyes were dark, beautiful actually, as she watched him tremble, his jaw tense to the point she saw a muscle ticking below his cheekbone. He wore a navy-blue linen suit, clearly his acquiescence to the non-uniform rule for eighth years. It suited him and brought out the tiny flecks of blue in his silver eyes. Eyes that were now avoiding hers.

"Oh, it's you." Her voice broke the silence. He didn't speak but he cocked his head, his eyes dipping as they roved the length of her body from her toes, up her legs in her short black skirt, to the dip in her tartan blouse, eventually meeting her eyes. She shivered and felt that same feeling as when she'd caught his eye that first day of term. She could put her finger on what it was now, it was sexual in origin and it felt once more like she was a mouse in the claws of a dragon just like all those years before.

Something had awoken inside her during the dog days in Bulgaria, something that she realised, once it was unleashed, that needed sating and was constantly burning within her core. She’d never thought about sex before Viktor, never bothered snogging boys, it had seemed like a waste of time not to focus on her studies until the past summer. He’d opened her up to the possibilities of her sexuality and she thanked him for it, even though they were never suited as a couple. Once she left Bulgaria, she began to crave a hard, male body between her legs, to notice more how boys and men looked at her. It was a sexual awakening of a young woman who realised she had power, who could do as she liked without fear of repercussions and who could have men begging at her feet if she chose it. Not only within her was contained a mighty force of magic, but she had other womanly wiles and she could take what she wanted from the world. This was an awe-inspiring moment for her.

It had become apparent since her return that what lingered between her and Malfoy had been a kind of sexual tension she hadn’t been able to put a name to for all these years, a physical attraction filled with burning anger, hatred and lustful thoughts that seemed to subside eventually, settling into some mutual acceptance until this year when she realised it’s significance. Setting aside the war and the things he'd done, it had always been there, this thing between them and she understood it now. 

"Are you going to say anything?" She challenged, sure that daring him might make him speak, to at least say why he was here.

He shook his head tightly, his lips pursed, and she wondered if he was ever likely to talk. Taking the opportunity, she glanced at the envelope in her hand, it was still sealed but everyone worth their salt in the wizarding world knew how to repair parchment once it was ripped open, he had to know that. She took a step forward bravely. It was better to know. "Did you read my letter?"

His eyes widened and he looked like a caged animal for a moment. She had her answer. She’d learned in time how men were transparent, and he looked like Harry or Ron might if they knew might upset her. She realised men were like open books to her, easy to read and filled with further knowledge they often tried not to impart, sometimes an enigma but mostly simple in their wants and needs.

Draco felt like his throat was going to close and it itched like it was filled with sand. He hadn't been at all prepared for her to come right out and ask him about the letter, in fact, he hadn't expected to see her at all. He supposed he was a complete idiot for thinking she wouldn't notice him returning the envelope, he knew she was behind him when he came back this way and had probably gone to her room. He cleared his throat and decided to admit the truth, she knew what he'd done so he acknowledged it. "Alright, I admit it, I peeked but when I realised what it was, I sealed it again. You didn't address it Granger, how was I to know who it belonged to without opening it?" 

He gulped at her silence, almost complacent when she didn't explode like he’d expected. She blinked several times, like she couldn’t quite believe him.

Bravely stepping forward she placed a hand on his chest, biting her lip, her eyes downcast. "Then, what did you think of it?" She swallowed, her hand moving to cover the flush which covered the smooth skin of her upper chest. 

His mind raced with the words beautiful, wonderful, gorgeous, so bloody sexy. "I didn't much like the note to that git, but the picture was smoking hot Granger." Her eyes were looking up expectantly, filled with something new for him, not hatred and if he had to say exactly what it was, he'd say it was unguarded lust. Her fingers trembled against his chest and he took a risk when he captured them in his own, pulling her closer, and slammed her back against the wall. "So. Fucking. Hot." He enunciated and dipped his head, their lips a hairs breadth away, each could taste each other's exhalations and their chests rose and fell as they fought for breath. 

"Hermione." Draco murmured.

"Yes?" She replied breathlessly, her pupils blown wide.

"You don't need him and if he doesn't know what he's let go then he's a complete wanker." He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, never had he felt so nervous with a girl, but Draco’s confidence had taken a huge knock and he wasn’t sure if she might turn around at any moment and laugh at him for even trying.

“Oh, I think he does, after all, it was me who ended it.” 

“If it was me—” he drew in a large breath hesitantly. “If it were me, I’d never let you go once I had you.”

She beamed and he wondered if he’d ever seen a woman dazzle him so much as she did in that moment. 

"You ought to be careful, your true colours are showing, Draco, I always wondered if there was someone real under the surface of the Slytherin prince." She reached up to touch his cheek tenderly with the tips of her fingers.

Draco caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, their bodies so close she could feel the length of his erection pressed against her thigh. It sent all sorts of delicious feelings from her lower belly to her outer extremities and she rubbed her thighs together, her knickers damp and her nipples hard against her shirt. She felt so hot she wanted to strip off and with a little encouragement she knew he would be the one to do the removing.

In an instant Draco’s lips were on her neck, planting sweet kisses along her jugular and across her collarbone. 

How this had happened, neither could really tell, but it was, and it seemed so very right, like the inevitable lightning strike and rain following a rumble of thunder, something that would happen eventually.

Hermione moaned as he ground his hips against hers, her back against the cold, hard stone, her hair trapped as he threaded his fingers into her tresses at the nape of her neck. His thumbs causing her skin to prickle and her chest flush. "I-I'm not sure we should be doing this—" She drew herself away, ducking under his arm, although she desperately wanted to lose herself in him, Intense passion had her almost allowing him to take her in the hallway near Gryffindor tower. That the younger students were in class was their one saving grace.

His face changed, thinking she was brushing his attentions off. He ran his hand through his hair, eyes flashing with disbelief and anger. Hermione couldn't tell whether it was anger at her or himself for taking things too far. 

"Yes, I shouldn't have, I overstepped the line and I apologise." He turned to leave.

"I wasn't going to say anything of the sort Draco, but I’m sure my hearing must be failing as I thought I heard an apology from a Malfoy, to a muggleborn." She giggled, hoping she wouldn’t drive him away. "In fact, I was about to say that perhaps we shouldn't be doing this in the corridor where we could be caught by Filch at any moment."

Unashamedly she grasped his collar and pulled him inside her room, slamming the door shut with her foot and shoving him into her desk chair. “I think we have a ton of study to do before the exams, Draco, so if you want your reward, you’d better make sure you apply yourself or else you’ll be going to bed alone tonight.” She settled herself on his lap, ignoring his hard-on with great difficulty and the chuckle he breathed over the shell of her ear as his hand wound around her waist, his thumb daringly toying with the barest hint of lace at the edge of her bra through a gap in the buttons of her shirt. 

That morning, starting from the beginning, she reviewed every last thing she’d studied so far that term, often pushing his hands to her waist when he got a little frisky.

Eventually getting the message, Draco listened and worked hard, answering her questions as well as he could. He couldn’t be sure he’d do well enough to meet her high standards, but somehow the wriggle of her arse occasionally in his lap told him his luck might still be in tonight, and even if it wasn’t, he was happy to hold her in his arms and bloody well work for it. Draco realised Hermione Granger was everything he’d ever wanted, and she came to the realisation that Viktor may have been a trial run for the real thing. 


End file.
